


The Bad Sleep Well -6- Look

by sharkcar



Series: The Bad Sleep Well [6]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Clones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 11:00:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21196571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkcar/pseuds/sharkcar
Summary: An imagining of the lives of clones after the Clone Wars. Just some simple men, making their ways in the universe, in all their tragicomic glory1- Mirror- Cody searches for one clone and finds another2- Search- Rex is looking for one girl and finds another3- Appear- Wolffe doesn't even know how to start looking





	1. Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip to Saleucami leads to a strange discovery

Clavius Moon  
  
“Here are your costumes, stooges,” Niki smiled with those perfect teeth as she tossed the clothes at Cody and Blue. As part of a condition of her help finding the queen’s child, Niki insisted on conscripting Cody into a caper that she had assured them would be most profitable. Cody had no choice but to obey her. And Blue did whatever Cody told him.  
  
“Are you sure about this crazy plan of yours?” Blue was dubious. He held up his ridiculous outfit. It was a dress of an Askajian dancer.  
  
Shizla sneered, “We needed access to the base to plug the device into their com system. This story worked, although I still can’t believe anyone is this stupid.” She was already in her silly costume. She was uncomfortable in the mini-skirt, tube top, leggings and boots. It was not her typical mode of dress. She looked cold.  
  
Niki nodded, “People believe the things they want the most, no matter how improbable.” It had been her plan. She was proud of how easy it had been. “Turns of phrase like, ‘you have been selected’ really help.” Niki always said it was amazing what you could get other people to believe if you told the story right. She was shamelessly wearing little more than body glitter and a few adhesive bandages, from what Cody could tell.  
  
During her tenure as a chained pleasure slave, Niki had developed the skill of being entertaining as a means of survival. It didn’t mean she was treated well. Hutts starved their property to keep them weak and skinny. Niki had exercised and stretched whenever the blob was asleep. Or when she was locked alone in a closet or room. She wasn’t picky about what she ate to keep up her strength. Bugs would do. Spiders were better. With an offering of a dead spider, a bird might fly to your window and you could strangle it and eat that. Or you could leave the corpse out and eat all the ants and flies that came. Anything to stay alive until she saw her opportunity to get away. Niki always said that made her no more threatening than any kitten. But any predatory cat had kitten memories in its head. They were dangerous even at play to anything that was smaller than them.  
  
Since the mission was outside of the homeworld, DQA coordination for the mission fell to Captain Shizla. The first in command of the fleet, Shizla was a former Weequay pirate who had spent a lot of years getting mistreated because piracy was a field full of misogyny. Cody said he didn’t care about her being a woman, he knew she was trustworthy because she, like him, had chosen to be in recovery from alcoholism. She was, in fact, much more effective than most of her pirate colleagues, since she didn’t lose time to hangovers or make as many dumbass decisions.  
  
Shizla had been the prisoner in the old facility that Cody most feared would kill him immediately once he let everyone out and propose they all learn to live together. As a gesture of trust, she and Cody had privately agreed to keep each other from backsliding into addiction, since they both had those tendencies. Being sober had helped Shizla to feel competent enough to take on more responsibility, so Cody had told her to see what she could do about organizing their expanding military. Clones had all had the same training, so they just needed some direction. Shizla had taken it upon herself to be, like any good Jedi clone wrangler had been, one part general, one part priestess of a cult.  
  
She had been so successful at ‘wrangling the geezers,’ as she called it, the Dorn-Qek-Aurek were becoming a force other crews didn’t want to mess with, earning Shizla respect in the misogynistic world that was organized crime. She offered their friends more than just pillage and plunder.   
  
They were not the officially recognized government of the sector, the Empire still maintained a bureaucratic presence on the most populous worlds, but the name of the Democratic Queendom of Abrion was ambitious. It staked a claim. There were DQA trading posts on several remote worlds in the sector, and DQA construction firms wherever the Queen had donated funds for a dam or a bridge or irrigation system or the like. With these projects, the clones would be stationed for tours abroad to live among people, meet them, protect them in case of attack by pirates. World after world in the sector was sending their regards to the queen, whom almost nobody had ever seen besides her picture on the money.   
  
After a life in piracy, Shizla picked up a lot of respect from people for good things, rather than the violence and bullying her own people revered.  
  
“Okay, so who are we?” Cody went over the plan one last time, putting on a very obviously fake leather jacket in a tacky shade of purple.  
  
Niki crafted the narrative, “I told them you are a printer of pornography and we are models who want to shoot a photo spread on their ship,” she cackled. “You even offered to let some of them watch, so they all lose their minds over the possibility of being able to gawk at actual breasts. I told them we would do a little dancing show at the beginning, so they let us bring in our equipment already. On the stage where it’s loud, nobody will think it’s suspicious we’re wearing ear covers. The weapon is in the speakers for our music. We cause a commotion. I give the signal, Pavlos hits the remote switch on Palpatine’s Tits and we’re home free. We dump the Sheevies on Rodia full of psychedelic mushrooms. They won’t remember what happened to them, so interrogations will be useless.”  
  
“I feel like this is so unnecessarily strange...” Cody protested.  
  
“That’s the point!” Shizla was thoroughly enjoying this because Blue’s costume was ridiculous. “No one will believe anything they say. Besides, we don’t want to claim responsibility for this one. Let the sheeving bastards think that these idiots karked up their own station. They won’t know we have it. They’ll blame it on a weird bread mold or mass psychic epidemic or something.”  
  
“Simpler isn’t always kinder, Coats,” Niki shook her head at him. They both had violent tendencies, but she was really trying to work on it.  
  
Cody was known for expediently shooting people to solve problems. He claimed he could just tell from experience who was irredeemable. Niki had never seen anything to tell her he was ever wrong, they mostly dealt with scum and that was their language, but she would rather not have killed things now if they didn’t have to. Imperials more often than not surrendered to save their own lives. You didn’t have to hand them something so final as death for being weak minded.  
  
“I’m gonna bring home some of the psychedelics, I hear sex on those things is crazy,” Shizla told Niki, seemingly in order to make Blue uncomfortable. They’d formerly dated. He took her conduct personally for some reason.  
  
“Niner doing pickup?” Cody asked.  
  
“He was cleared already? I didn’t see his deposition report,” Niki looked at him suspiciously. All new recruits to the Queendom were supposed to be drowned in paperwork and procedure for the first bit.  
  
“I’m sure it will be filed by the time we get back,” Cody hoped Sotna would file something.  
  
Niki nodded, “Good. Easy mission like this. It’s his first time, so he’ll be conscientious.”  
  
“Make sure you compliment him, no matter what,” Shizla reminded.  
  
“Of course I was going to...” Cody protested.  
  
“Shhhh,” Niki put her finger to her lips.  
  
The hatch opened and the corridor lay before them.  
  
Cody slid out the portal, through to a stage and grabbed the microphone in front of him. “Hey everybody, listen to the news,” he grimaced at his ad lib. The Imperial audience whooped anyway. “Hello all you radar technicians out there, and the vent maintainers, and the sanitation engineers. We wanna let you know that we’re proud of you.” Cody had never heard anyone say that while he was in the army. So he figured the validation would sell the dream. “We know how tough and how hard it’s been. Yeah!”  
  
The audience was in a frenzy. Pavlos started the music and flashed Cody the thumbs up.  
  
“To prove it,” Cody announced, “We’re gonna give you some entertainment we know you’re gonna like,” Cody checked the note card he’d been handed, thinking to himself it would have been faster just to hit the device and toss everybody out the air lock, “Miss August, Miss Tish I’mTee.”  
  
Niki burst through the curtain and the crowd applauded wildly. She was gorgeous.  
  
“Miss May, Miss Butter Nutsquash! Yeah!” Shizla danced through the curtain somewhat uncomfortably. Niki had said that made her believable as an exploited person. The crowd applauded. Shizla smiled, somewhat in disbelief. She gave Cody a look that read, ‘Look at these sorry bastards’.  
  
“And the pinup girl of the year, Miss Suq Mediq!” Cody struggled to maintain a straight face.  
  
Blue burst through the curtain, Niki and Shizla putting their everything into it just to be terrible in their silly costumes, and Blue, dressed in drag as an Askajian, could not dance. So he did a few strange arm movements and walked around the stage looking confused. They were all dressed in skimpy uniforms that bore the logo of a soft porn magazine popular with Imperial military.  
  
They included a cringingly bad ‘sexy’ dance number with toy guns. Staying in character as nude models, they acted helplessly stupid and taken advantage of, because that was the character models were told to use in that industry, so Niki said as she was playing acting coach on the way there. The local species of the moon looked in through the ports from the dark. They were just there for the latest episode of ‘What the Kark These Humans Doing Now?’  
  
Everyone was paying attention to the dancing, the all male crew hadn’t seen a woman in over three years. Blue’s costume slipped a little and his nipple showed. The men got incited and they tried to break through the barriers. Eventually, things escalated and the men beat back the Stormtrooper guards and rushed at the dancers. The Stormtroopers had to try to restore order and a melee broke out.  
  
Niki gave the signal, raising her fist. The strike team had on their earplugs. Everyone else fell to the ground in seizures with concussion symptoms.  
  
The DQA’s sonic disruptor weapon had gone off. This technology they’d developed bore a name that was an ode to the Emperor’s purported man boobs.  
  
The team jumped to the controls and detached the station from the moon’s surface, just as the Meebur Gascon appeared to tow the portable space station to Rodia.  
  
–  
  
The Empire tried to get in contact with the station for their routine inspection a month later. The personnel never tried to get in contact. The moon natives recounted a spectacular tale. But nothing was left behind, although the natives inexplicably seemed to have autographed pictures of a soft core pornographic model. The tight little shirt she was wearing, showing off some underboob said, ‘Skywalker Lives’.  
  
The Imperials who had manned the station were eventually found when Rodia asked the sector governor if he could pay for their room and board, since they had been arrested in Toopil for trespassing and vandalism at a salvage yard. They had taken some bad drugs and freaked out. The owner had found them there one morning and called the authorities. They were jailed for a time for substance abuse but then were reassigned. Two Fett clone stormtroopers were missing and presumed dead. 

  


\--  
  
Blue, Pavlos and Shizla had taken charge of drugging and depositing the moon station crew in a salvage yard in Toopil. They went back to Rishi with Niner on the ship that was known around as ‘The Meeb’.  
  
The two new Stormtrooper brothers had to be treated for the effects of the sonic disruptors. Memory loss of the experience was common. They woke up in the hospital on Rishi and had no idea how they had gotten where they were. So Blue was usually in charge of entry briefings. As a prank, he planned on wearing his new costume and to tell them they were dead, but he was the Moon Lady and that they were given a second chance to go back and change their lives. It was always fun to watch new brothers have that Life Day morning kind of feeling. He was a firm believer that brothers had to be hazed a bit before they were inducted into the organization. He’d let them in on the joke after and they’d have a story to tell.  
  
Once the stolen space station was scrubbed, repaired and running, it was bound for Rishi Moon. The dish from a certain listening station had been mostly salvaged by an archaeological expedition funded by the Queen. The DQA was rebuilding the post to man it permanently.  
  
Niki insisted that Cody take her in his shuttle so she could torture him for a while with her angry silence. Then she finally snapped, “I didn’t say I wanted to know anything about that scumbag, you know!”  
  
Cody didn’t know what to say. She’d admitted to him that she loved Wolffe once, but only after he’d accused her of it. But he hadn’t known what else to call it. He had known them both apart and they had both been happier together. He couldn’t see why they were even going to have a discussion.  
  
“You’re telling me you won’t help me now?” Cody was genuinely worried. He had lied to his wife. All Niki had to say was ‘no’ and he would be deeper in it.  
  
Niki wore a coat of armor that was as sensitive as a fingertip, figuratively speaking. She crossed her arms and looked mad. But she then took a deep breath and said something surprising, yet not, “Cody, I’m not sure I’m ready to find out how he died.” Under her breath, she muttered, ‘piece of shit’, which of course, with her accent, sounded like, ‘piss of sheet’. “The one thing he was most afraid of was dying alone. I’d feel like if he died alone, it would be my fault somehow.”  
  
“How are you so sure he’s dead?” Cody asked, feeling weird to be the hopeful one. But he had to be.  
  
When Niki got depressed, her despair was bottomless. She was no help to anyone then. “He couldn’t stop drinking. It was gonna kill him if he tried. I couldn’t have him around, he encouraged all of my bad behaviors. I can’t afford any weaknesses. Damn you for bringing up emotional topics,” she shook her head a little.  
  
“Soooo...” Cody didn’t want to sound like an insensitive prick, but time was of the essence and he was starting to resent her taking her time with this. He felt bad for feeling it, though.  
  
She snapped, “I’m here ain’t I? So I guess, ready or not, here I come. I just wanted you to know how hard this is. Just appreciate me a little,” she tossed her lek over her shoulder. She muttered ‘piss of sheet‘ again.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Cody swallowed hard to keep himself from hanging himself by saying more. Then he changed the subject, “Have you decided who are you thinking of installing as the governor of Hevy Station?” Cody was allowing her to focus on work as a coping mechanism.  
  
They were establishing a military base on their moon as a way to widen their security net, to repel invaders from the system before they reached Rishi. Cody had bigger ambitions than the Rishi colony, but he never knew when he would have poked the sleeping monster they were riding on one too many times. The Empire had the resources, if they showed up, to overwhelm the entire Abrion sector and hunt down every last one of Cody’s pitiful band. But not without tremendous cost. That at least made them think twice about bothering. If the Sheevies came, an early outer warning system was also the best bet, when the only tool they had left was time. Time bought you options. Time could keep you alive. Sometimes a head start is all you need to survive.  
  
“Well, Shizla will hold power as the head of the navy. But someone has to run facilities management. It doesn’t take much. Just someone to be a permanent presence. Moon Governor has to go to someone loyal,” Niki commanded, “Tell Blue to go.”  
  
“Shizla will hate that. And he won’t leave my side. It would be a perfect retirement job for someone. Whoever it is could still go on missions whenever we had work for them, if they wanted to feel useful. But mostly they could just sit and enjoy a good retirement,” Cody ventured an idea.  
  
“Are you thinking of trying to deposit Rex there if you find him?” Niki laughed.  
  
Rex was very popular. He would have a lot of power if he ever showed up. It could upset the balance of what they were trying to build there, Cody rationalized to himself.  
  
Niki scoffed, “What do you think? That some people might think you’re the clone whose record deserves some kind of forced exile among the eels? I already think so. Doesn’t mean I’d send you.”  
  
“Why won’t you ever take my fears seriously?” Cody realized too late that he sounded dangerously close to showing an emotion. Niki had a way of drawing them out of him.  
  
“I need to keep you as my puppet because over half the colony is those damned tattoo faced Rothana clones and they worship you,” Niki said it as a taunt to his ego. The Rothana clones referred to Cody by a Mando’a epithet that honestly meant, ‘savior’. Niki always took this as a sign that Cody was vain.  
  
He’d never asked for it. It actually made him uncomfortable being famous for something good. He changed the subject, since he had a chance to talk to her.  
  
“I looked into those refugee scholarships for the Legislative Youth, Sotna is still eligible. So, if she wanted, she could try a few years of learning how the Senate runs things,” Cody suggested.  
  
“They don’t!” Niki burst out.  
  
“But she’ll make important contacts. Meet those tawdry rich people who really run things. She’ll learn about all the conspiracies, attract some corruptible idealists,” Cody plotted. It had been Sotna’s idea. She had lived her whole life in the Outer Rim, she wanted to try life in the center of the universe.  
  
“How do you know she’s ready to be a spy?” Niki knew what was up.  
  
“Because I trained her,” Cody was absolutely certain Sotna had the mettle. He knew what it took, he’d been one of the most ruthless spies the Emperor ever had.  
  
“She always did keep an eye on me for you, no one else would have dared,” Niki scolded. She’d had her moments of erratic behavior as Sotna was growing up. Sotna would usually send Cody a message and he could check in and make sure Niki had the support she needed. She was too prideful to ask for help, so it had fallen to Sotna and Cody to keep her secrets. She was doing much better, she hadn’t had an anxiety attack in years. But she still resented needing people.  
  
“My dear, we were both utterly helpless under the sway of our love for you,” Cody said it in the same strange monotone he used for everything serious, “We did what we had to. Besides, she asked me.”  
  
“She named you my protector?” Niki was skeptical.  
  
“She asked me for help,” he admitted, “I only hope...”  
  
“What? That I forgive you for intruding into my life uninvited? Why Sotna trusts you is beyond me. I have seen too much of what you are capable of,” Niki wasn’t accusing, she was stating fact.  
  
“Maybe she trusts me because she only ever knew me after I’d changed my ways,” Cody didn’t want to sound too egotistical. It would attract Niki’s ridicule.  
  
“Who says people can change?” she looked at him hard, as if trying to decide something.  
  
“We are what we say we are,” Cody protested. It was a sentiment he was trying to make a kind of clone motto. For most of their lives, Cody and his brothers had been stained with the brutal picture that was painted of them by others, never being able to tell anything from their point of view. Cody was tired of it. That, Niki had always understood.  
  
Niki did her Cody impression, “The ends justify the means.” She switched back to her own accent, “Speaking of your candidate for moon governor, why don’t you set the course for Saleucami.”  
  
“Does this mean what I think it means?” Cody asked.  
  
“You know Wolffe, he used acting deranged as a defense mechanism, so I never knew what to believe with him. I think he thought he knew Rex went into hiding, but his evidence sounded like the ravings of a schizophrenic meth head. Deep down, he was sharp as glass. I bet he knew where to go. He’d karked up his whole life and still lived so he wanted to fight for his life. He always said nobody knew better how to fight than Rex. Wolffe was bound to overdose or from withdrawal complications. I don’t want to hear about that. Or worse, I don’t want to show up and hear he never made it. I don’t want to picture him that way, collapsing next to the dumpster at Biscuit Baron at a spaceport or something. So please, if nobody brings it up, please don’t ask about Wolffe. Stick to Rex.”  
  
“Of...course,” Cody looked at her closely.  
  
Niki frowned at him. Sneaky bastard would find out about Wolffe now that she told him not to, she was sure of it. Niki thought that sneaky bastard Cody probably only wanted to know about Wolffe to prove to himself that he was the superior clone. Niki knew she was projecting. She was still trying to assure herself in her profanity laced inner monologue that she’d won the breakup and that she didn’t owe Wolffe anything. She hated her projection of Cody for being as vile as she was.  
  
–  
  
Saleucami  
  
Niki and Cody parked the shuttle next to an eopie pen. They looked down the ship’s ramp, up the path to the farmhouse. It was well maintained, with trimmed hedges and flower boxes in the windows. Everywhere, it was green. Eopies grazed and frolicked. One walked up to the side of its pen, sniffing at Cody. It was wearing a collar with a license that identified the animal as ‘Declan’. It licked Cody’s face.  
  
“You didn’t slip me any of those psychedelic mushrooms, did you?” Cody was serious. He did not trust Niki, she was known for pranks.  
  
“Wow,” Niki wrinkled her nose and crossed her arms, offended.  
  
The couple, an old Fett clone and a middle aged Twi’lek woman in farmers’ garb came out to greet them.  
  
Niki and Cody were still dressed in their pornographer costumes, Cody realized with regret, as they strangely mirrored their counterparts. Cody and Niki looked like the kind of people one might owe money to. Or who might be trying to recover a person who skipped bail.  
  
Cody addressed the two of them, “Hello there.” Cody automatically used his most jang sounding dialect. “Um...we’re looking for someone. We were wondering if we’re in the wrong place.” Cody put up his hands to show he was not grabbing for a weapon.  
  
Old Man Lawquane was a bit blind. So he asked his wife, “Who is this?”  
  
The woman, Suu, looked at her husband and told him in Twi’leki, “I think one of those magazines might have received one of Wolffe’s letters after all, I think he just won one of those ‘date with a model’ prizes.”  
  
Cody bit the inside of his lip so hard it bled, struggling not to laugh.  
  
–  
  
Suu and Niki were walking up the barn stairs to the loft. Niki in glitter covered silver high heels didn’t even stumble or grab for the railing.  
  
Suu explained, “We haven’t seen him in years, but he was here for a bit after the war. Did he send you any of his fan art? This is just so funny, because I was just thinking of this the other day, when he and my son painted that mural. After he left, we had to stack hay bales against it, since local boys kept trying to sneak in and get a look.””  
  
Once in the loft, Suu pulled the chain for the light that hung from the apex of the ceiling. She hefted some hay bales aside and revealed faded mural on the wooden ceiling. A brightly painted panel of a green Twi’lek woman her body covered in stars. Niki viewed the image of her own face, the expression kind and full of love. She swallowed hard. She felt like she’d just accidentally stepped on a puppy.  
  
Suu told her in Twi’leki, “We honestly don’t know where he went from here. We miss him, though. He really was a nice man. I’m sorry he missed this. So is the magazine going to publish one of his stories or something?”  
  
“His story won a contest,” Niki lied easily, trying to sound fun. “He must have used his old subscription address by mistake. We can send the other prizes here,” Niki made a note to herself to send this woman, among other things, a clothes washing machine. The conditions were primitive. Niki had seen the clotheslines. She almost wanted to ask more about Wolffe, but she couldn’t bring the words past her epiglottis. They just sat there, practically plugging up her nostrils from behind.  
  
\--  
  
Cody sat with his brother Cut while the women went to the loft. Cut’s step-daughter Shaeeah sat with the men, scrutinizing Cody’s appearance.  
  
Cody tried to sound more trustworthy, “I hope you don’t think me too forward brother, but I have a medical droid in my ship over there. If you’d like, I could have him take care of those cataracts for you.”  
  
“Kark yeah I want to see again!” Cut put out his hand to slap it.  
  
Cody obliged, then they gripped arms and Cut was helped up.  
  
“Daddy, are you sure? You don’t know anything about this man,” his daughter Shaeeah took him by the other arm, “What if he just decides to fly off with you?”  
  
“I could bring the droid here, if you like...” Cody offered, he hit a button on his comlink to call the droid.  
  
Shaeeah shook her head, “You don’t know what it will cost.”  
  
“Nothing,” Cody was astonished.  
  
“You’re not going to try to get him addicted to some miracle cure?” she was dubious. The rural parts of the Outer Rim didn’t have access to lots of technology that was routine in other parts. Their worlds were subjected to little regulation when it came to money making schemes.  
  
Shaeeah had apparently seen them all, “Or ask him to start selling products for you, or you’re going to ask him a favor someday and then start burying your bodies on the farm? He doesn’t want any part of that.”  
  
Organized crime was also rampant, which Cody knew full well because he was one of the more organized criminals around. The DQA didn’t bury bodies of the local criminals, robbers and crime lords they killed. Their custom was to feed people to the eels on Rishi Moon. They could have made a spectacle of it, but Lina wouldn’t allow public human sacrifice of any kind in the homeland, so they had told her that eel raising was an eco-friendly option to repurpose waste. The eel guano made good tree fertilizer for their terraforming operation on the moon. Eels were not generally eaten by the populace because they tasted terrible. So the eels were nourished and allowed to die of old age and then ground up into tree fertilizer themselves. The eels were therefore considered somewhat like sacred mascots. After eel feeds, Cody would often be asked to tell the story of Domino Squadron, since he’d known them personally. Cutup was believed to be the first brother ever to be consumed by a Rishi eel. While everyone in the colony knew that the first Rishi eel ever killed was slain by the legendary Captain Rex, with a single shot to the eye.  
  
The droid arrived and Cody punched the code in for cataract surgery.  
  
“Why would you help us?” Shaeeah was harsh.  
  
“Damnit Shaeeah, he’s my brother,” Cut let himself be led to the droid, “We know we can trust each other.”  
  
The droid was through with the surgery in less than thirty seconds. The doctor administered the bacta, and a few moments later, rinsed Cut’s eyes out with drops. Cut blinked and blotted his eyes with a swab and looked up to where Cody was sitting. It would have been imperceptible to anyone who wasn’t a clone, but Cody saw it in Cut. The flash of recognition. And just a glimmer of fear.  
  
\--  
  
Cut and Shaeeah simply thanked Cody. Cut was strangely silent for a man that just had his sight restored. Cody didn’t want to seem aggressive, so he accompanied the droid back to the ship himself and lingered at the top of the ramp.  
  
“If he ever happens by, we’ll make sure he gets the prizes,” Suu was emerging from the barn with Niki.  
  
“Well, until then, you enjoy them,” Niki turned to Cody, “Are we all set here?”  
  
She was most of the way past him when Cody disobeyed her.  
  
“Is he still alive now? Even if you can’t tell us where, please just tell us that,” he asked his brother’s family.  
  
Niki turned, angry. She grabbed Cody by the wrist and dug in her nails.  
  
Shaeeah shook her head, “We told you, we don’t know.”  
  
Cut made a face that any brother knew. Cut knew something. But he wouldn’t say.  
  
–  
  
Niki and Cody were in the ship afterwards, headed back to Abrion.  
  
“Well that went terribly,” Cody sighed. He knew he probably would not be able to convince Niki to monitor Cut’s communications. He certainly wasn’t going to try to threaten Cut into telling them the information. That was a major part of his colony’s code. A brother never did anything to a brother that he wouldn’t want done to himself.  
  
Niki was blotting at her eye makeup, “I told her we were going to send her the ‘prizes he won’. I will have the delivery team make discreet inquiries.”  
  
“I’ll send the ‘Intelligence Service’, just as soon as they get done with their previous assignment,” Cody sighed. Hopefully they found something. He hated just sitting around.  
  
Niki shook her head and crossed her arms like she was cold. Cody took off his purple jacket and put it around her shoulders. It was the smell of him on it that curled its way up to her nostrils that flooded her heart with feelings from a version of herself she hadn’t seen in years.  
  
\--  
  
Saleucami  
  
Cut sent a new packet of healing herbs to his brothers on Seelos, care of Tunko Tonka the Toydarian of Kwymartown.  
  
The note on the inside of the package wrapper read, “Brother, that thing you told me might happen just happened. He came in an Imperial shuttle, no less. We didn’t tell them anything about you because there was nothing to tell. Just be careful.”  
  
Cut put the package in the courier post, which meant it could be rotations or even months before anyone received it. It was the best he could do. He wasn’t going to endanger his family by attracting trouble. But the clones had had a common code in the academy, if the authorities come around asking questions, a brother deserved a warning.  
  
–  
  
Abrion Sector  
  
Victory was speaking at the holo-com, his blue figure standing on the dash panel of Cody’s stolen Imperial shuttle. Stolen Imperial hardware made up most of his fleet.  
  
Cody and Niki could see the Concord Dawn bartender droid in the background. The ‘Intelligence Service’ dressed him in Supercommando armor and were having him play Gar Saxon in a new scene they were working on.  
  
“You can’t make this shit up. Word here is that Countess Wren shot Gar Saxon. Now TIBER Saxon has his ass full with a brazen revolt. Fenn Rau has allied himself with some former Death Watch members who don’t like their old Housemate Saxy-frass because he is not Mandalorian enough. So both sides former Deathwatch now.”  
  
“Besides Rau, Who is revolting?” Cody asked.  
  
“Bo Katan and them,” Vic shrugged.  
  
“That seems kind of a strange 180 for Cabur Rau.”  
  
“The enemy of my enemy...” Vic quoted.  
  
“What are they fighting for?” Cody shook his head at his hopeful image that Rex had run off and joined a revolution for romantic reasons that were built out of a mutual love of firearms.  
  
“What else, ‘Mandalorian liberation’,” Victory did sarcastic jazz hands. The ‘Intelligence Service’s musical play included a song that asked, ‘Liberation from What?’ and listed everything they could think of. ‘Liberation’ was just an excuse to fight. “Rumor is Rau’s back on the home world. We’re headed there to see if we can infiltrate the fighters, learn what we can about who the players are.”  
  
Stabbi joined Vic at the com, “This is gonna be such good research for the play.”  
  
“So can we assume this is the cause that Rex has involved himself in?” Niki asked, cleaning off her glitter glue makeup with a tonic she made herself. She was too perceptive, “Is Rex working for them in exchange for being able to see Alis?”  
  
Cody wasn’t sure if that theory made him feel worse or better. That Rex had demonstrated so easily that he cared about Lina’s child, it meant he still harbored feelings. Worse still, it might be a little too impressive a demonstration. But it did offer an explanation as to why Rex had been able to see Alis where Cody had failed. An explanation better than that Cody just hadn’t wanted to.  
  
The holo-still of Alis’s face from the droid’s memory file came up on the com. Cody’s heart felt a puncture. She looked just like his wife.  
  
“Does that thing have any memories of what Rex looks like now?” Cody asked.  
  
“Well some geezer, anyway,” Stabbi pulled up a file for them to see.  
  
Cody stifled a snort, seeing Rex had gone bald and he hadn’t. Niki gave him a look that meant she thought he was despicable.  
  
“Well, now that you’ve seen what she looks like, you should recognize her if she’s there, just catch her and bring her to Rishi, no questions, no hesitation. She is to be kept safe at all times,” Cody specified.  
  
Sh’ehn called from the background on the com, “Bag over the head routine. Got it.”  
  
Niki raised eyebrows, “You’ll scare her to death.”  
  
“All will be forgiven when she wakes up with her mother beside her,” Cody defended.  
  
Niki rolled her eyes.  
  
“If Rex is there and she’s not, see if you can draw him out, or follow him, see if he contacts anyone. There is no need for a fight. She is your objective. Don’t try to capture him. Leave him where he is,” Cody instructed. Rex would be dangerous to try to capture, Cody knew for certain.  
  
“And if there are other brothers with him?” Vic asked.  
  
“If they’re fighting for this little shit show, they might be too far gone to want to join us, but it’s okay to test the waters if you sense they’d like a change, or especially if they are fighting against their wills,” Cody advised. He looked at Niki to see if she wanted to add anything, in case a certain one eyed clone should turn up.  
  
She stayed silent. She was certain that there was no chance in hell of Wolffe ever making that much of a change. He hated Mandalorians. Cody was as close to his brothers as another being could be, if he was paranoid that Rex had joined the fight to be near that girl, then that was probably the truth. Even though technically, Alis was next to nothing to him. Niki didn’t think, despite their altruistic image of themselves, that men ever did anything for women without needing something in return. Niki thought it was a near certainty that Rex was desperate to see this girl because he had no one else left.  
  
The fact that Wolffe might have died under Rex’s care was a comfort to her, she found. Rex had always been so good.  
  
–


	2. Search

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rex finally gets some time to himself and Kallus decides to tag along

Coruscant, the last year of the war, 79’s, back office  
  
“She told me she was afraid, Rex! Afraid! Of me! Meanwhile, she’s up there alone with Count von Rohypnol trying to force himself on her. We fought because he was trying to make me leave. If she would have just called Typho and told him what happened, he would have been able to eject the creep and I wouldn’t have had to do anything,” Skywalker explained.  
  
“Yes, Sir, you sound like you were being completely reasonable, given those circumstances,” Rex reassured him. Fives had just died, so Rex wasn’t really focused on his friend’s life at the time.  
  
“So I’m completely fine to continue my command, alright?” General Skywalker framed it like Rex had a choice in the matter. Rex had thought it strange that the general had felt the need to explain his personal life, since Rex had not verbally expressed any interest. It was as if Skywalker was worried someone would come along and ask.  
  
–  
  
Yavin IV, nineteen years later  
  
“I’m not saying don’t, I’m just wondering if it’s *necessary* for you to come,” Kanan sounded like his old self, thankfully without that bit of a Core accent he’d been affecting lately.  
  
“But you’re questioning my decision?” Hera twitched her lekku.   
  
Rex wasn’t fluent in Ryll, but based on her lekku twitches, Rex thought Kanan was treading dangerous ground.   
  
Poor Kanan couldn’t even see them.  
  
“I wasn’t...I was just reminding you that not everyone gets to choose to be put in harm’s way...” Kanan knew he was in trouble as soon as he’d said it.  
  
“Of course the child soldier would say that. But you have never had a problem throwing Ezra and Sabine into the fray. Why am I different now?” Hera crossed her arms at him.  
  
Rex folded his hands in a position of absolute neutrality. It was a gesture he’d seen Kenobi doing. When a conversation was awkward Kenobi used to just clutch his hands together and stay still. Usually with his hands under his sleeves, so nobody noticed. When Rex had asked him if it was some kind of Jedi gesture, Kenobi explained that it was when he most wished he could disapparate. His Jedi Master, Qui-Gon Jin had often gotten himself into conflicts, walking around the Temple openly questioning the Order’s ethics. It was a socially awkward way to grow up, going around with someone who was constantly arguing with people. Kenobi had anxiety as a kid in the Temple and it was his way of coping. A little personal ritual.  
  
“I wouldn’t wish my past on anybody! I certainly don’t want that to be anyone’s future!” Aaaaaaand just like that Kanan was back to that pretentious sounding Core accent, “I’ll do what I have to to protect you.”  
  
“Oh, so the Jedi out-rank Generals in this Rebellion now!” Hera was getting flushed.  
  
From what Rex had detected, this argument had obviously been brewing for a while. They had only been trading passive aggressions so far, but the kids were asleep and Zeb was still out ‘playing cards’ with Alexsandr, so this fight leaked out when Rex had stopped by to check if Ezra still wanted to go to the livestock market in the morning.  
  
Ezra had asked Rex to organize a procurement trip, since his mission to Lothal could not draw funds from the Rebellion. Rex didn’t know whether to be shocked or flattered that Kanan and Hera thought it was okay to fight in front of him.  
  
“Hey, I’m not in it for the Rebellion,” Kanan gave an open palm gesture and went back to his own accent.  
  
“If I give an order you follow it,” she pointed a finger at him.  
  
“Haven’t I always?” Kanan said. The tone wasn’t mocking, it was joking. He had come closer and stroked one of her lekku.  
  
To Rex’s surprise Kanan was smiling a little. Rex was still sure she was going to kill him if he was laughing at her.  
  
But she smiled too.  
  
Rex was suddenly the one who was blushing. The way she looked at Kanan, Rex realized their joke was some private thing. He politely extricated himself from the situation. They barely noticed he left.  
  
Rex supposed Kanan had an advantage, being Force sensitive. Being able to read people’s feelings, Kanan could probably tell when she didn’t want to fight either. He would know when she was really angry at him or just afraid or bothered by something, and deal with it accordingly.  
  
That would have come in handy with people. Rex observed that a lot of conflicts stemmed from misunderstandings. People often acted differently than they felt.  
  
–  
  
Coruscant, First year of the war  
  
They were eating at Biscuit Baron in the Armory District after physical training. Rex was staring confusedly at the children’s playplace.  
  
“Did you want to ask something?” General Skywalker had always had an easy time understanding Rex. Whether it was from reading his thoughts, being attuned to his emotions, or just plain good at detecting his expressions, Rex couldn’t say. The guy was gifted at all three. Rex found all the attention the General focused on him a little surprising.  
  
“The children sound happy. We never used to sound that happy as kids, we were encouraged to be quiet. Is it really that much fun?” Rex had so many questions, but he just went with the first one that came to him.  
  
“Oh sure, I guess it can be,” Skywalker wiped his hands on his clothes.  
  
“Have you ever played on such a thing?” Rex asked, looking at what younglings could look like besides himself at that age.  
  
“I guess, a few times. I think it was mostly if we were traveling and Obi-Wan could tell I was getting bored,” Skywalker shrugged, “He’d encourage me to go and play with the other kids.”  
  
“Is that what it’s like being raised by a parent? Someone actually considers your feelings?” Rex had never seen children’s feelings taken into account in his life except Boba’s.  
  
“Yeah. What most surprised me, when I first moved to Coruscant, was that there were things made specifically for children to play with here, that people saw children as having a value worth spending money on or marketing to. Where I came from, children were only a commodity that could be sold, or abandoned. That’s one of the first things I decided for myself was that one way of doing things was definitely better. The other was intolerable.”  
  
Rex was amazed how succinctly Skywalker was able to put things. And he’d seen so much first hand, he had credibility. The guy had principles and understood so much of the universe, almost as if by instinct.  
  
“So what do you think the ideal situation is for children to be raised in?” General Skywalker asked him pointedly.  
  
Rex had just arrived new from Kamino, he was unused to people asking his opinion, “I...suppose I agree with you, Sir.”  
  
–  
  
Nal Hutta  
  
“So Kanan, when you lost your sight, is it true your other senses became stronger?” Ezra covered his nose with the back of his hand.  
  
“Yes, and this is the first time I’ve ever been angry about it,” Kanan said like his own self, but through a held nose.  
  
“I don’t know what you two are prattling on about, it’s barely detectable,” Rex shook his head at them. They were in a vast indoor animal market on Nal Hutta. The smell of blood, and meat, and innards, and shit hung in the haze of the place. This was the best place to get a deal on puffer pigs, according to a prospector friend of Rex’s from back on Seelos.  
  
They walked into a swine section. Ezra took the lead, “Remember, Vizago specified number, he didn’t say they had to be good quality.”  
  
“So am I to assume we don’t have any money?” Rex asked.  
  
“As usual,” Ezra said, cavalierly.  
  
Rex sighed. He never remembered being this broke all the time in his younger years. Although much of his company were much wealthier than himself, Rex and his brothers were all employed and maintained, they were also paid. They were restricted in how they were allowed to spend it, but Rex had never had to ask anyone else to pay for his personal expenditures. He always had more than enough to treat to drinks, or have lunch out with Skywalker or Ahsoka. Nothing financial stopped clones from taking people out for dates for instance. There was a certain dignity in even that small freedom. Now, Rex couldn’t remember the last time he’d had enough personal currency to buy a tank of fuel. Everything he brought in was stolen. It was better than begging, he supposed, if not more honorable.  
  
He felt a little ashamed of himself when he thought Alis might find out, though. One could say he had no other choice, but he didn’t think he could give up his frequently expressed personal belief to the contrary. So he chose to steal some pigs.  
  
“Let me talk to the guy until you get the merchandise subdued,” Rex told Ezra. The plan was for somebody to distract the salesman and then Kanan would Jedi mind trick him into thinking they’d already paid. Rex knew he would be the best at talking to the guy. Of the three of them, Rex was the only one who’d ever done any farming.  
  
“Are you sure you know what you’re looking for Rex?” Ezra asked.  
  
Rex pointed at a flatbed speeder already loaded with puffer pigs in crates. Ezra nodded and connected with the pigs to calm them. If they blew up, it was going to be impossible to move them, so he made them all fall asleep. This made them all simultaneously expel gas, the smell from which nearly knocked Ezra over.  
  
Rex shook his head, then turned to the salesperson and said in his best impression of his brother Cut, “Hey, what are you doing hanging out with this filthy swine,” Rex looked down at a puffer piglet that trotted up to the side of the pen.  
  
“I assure you, Boo-boo is of the highest quality,” the human salesman lisped with an accent.  
  
“I was talking to Boo-boo,” Rex smirked.  
  
“Ah, yes, a joke. Very funny,” he looked like he found the joke tedious.  
  
“So are these genuine puffer pigs?” Rex asked.  
  
“It says that on the sign here,” the salesman sneered.  
  
Rex shook his head dopily, “I’m not one much for reading.”  
  
“Sorry, do you want to buy any?” the salesman was spitting a little.  
  
“We’ve already paid,” Kanan did the mind trick gesture.  
  
“You’ve already paid,” the merchant repeated.  
  
“That transport over there,” Kanan pointed at Ezra, who was struggling to maintain his connection with the herd despite the series of dry heaves his body was spasming through.  
  
“Thank you,” Rex told the salesman, “If we could just get the invoice.”  
  
“We’re gonna have to get those things out of the crates when we get back,” Rex shouted to Ezra.  
  
“Why?” Ezra didn’t realize they were starting to wake up.  
  
“They kind of need food and water. They’ll have to have the shit hosed out of the crates. Living things tend to be like that.” Rex shook his head.  
  
“Well, who gets them back in the crates tomorrow to load them for Vizago?” Ezra was incredulous as he headed to the vehicle.  
  
“I’ll conscript some labor.” Rex already knew where he could get some wellies.  
  
Rex suddenly heard a familiar shriek.  
  
“Beardy!”  
  
Rex looked up to see the strange human. The swine prospector, Eubuleus was small and tough from hard living. They had known each other for years as they roamed Seelos.  
  
“I heard you were dead!” he shouted.  
  
“Not yet,” Rex had to admit. “What are you doing here?”  
  
“Damned Imperials. Some maniac driving one of those new fangled four legged land walkers came bombing through the wastes, not watching where they were going. Caused a crash that killed half my herd,” Eubuleus shook his fist.  
  
Rex squirmed internally, “An Imperial walker, you say?”  
  
“But Aqra claims that it wasn’t really Imperials, it was some guy named ‘Willy’. I say it makes no nevermind, real Imperials, fake Imperials named after dicks, my pigs are just as dead. Seelos is just as karked. I sold the herd and left. Anyway, I’m here to pick up an order of new livestock, gonna try out things on another world. Just getting some lunch before I load them in my ship.”  
  
Rex and Kanan watched as, behind the swineherd, the transport he gestured to flew off, Ezra at the controls.  
  
“Some strill’s anus hijacked my pigs!” Eubuleus screamed.  
  
“They’ve already paid, that transport over there,” the salesman declared.  
  
“Huh….you don’t say…..” Rex maintained composure. “Nice to see you, Eubuelus, I have to run.”  
  
\--  
  
“So what is going on in the Mandalore sector these days?” Rex asked Sabine as she flew the ship back to Yavin with the swine.  
  
“Well, Bo Katan insists they’re winning the war. Tiber Saxon was replaced as Imperial governor by his idiot son. He decided to turn Concord Dawn into a factory farm. Fenn Rau has vowed to have his revenge,” Sabine sounded exhausted.  
  
“Same old, same old for Mandalore sector. Any Concord Dawn people show up?” Rex asked.  
  
Sabine shrugged, “Not many. Rau might be on his own.”  
  
Rex tried to be cautious, “So...you’re not one-hundred percent committed to that fight?”  
  
“I needed a break from my mother, she is so self-righteous!” Sabine blurted. “And my dad, so critical. Sorry my technique is not up to your standard. We don’t all have your arts academy training. I would have LOVED to go to art school. Going to the Imperial Academy was THEIR idea!”  
  
Rex clasped his hands together.  
  
–  
  
Yavin IV  
  
The next morning, Rex was out early. Rebels were beginning to stumble out looking for breakfast. Rex intended to start cooking and then require the labor in exchange for the food. He had gotten a load of Naboo duck eggs on Nal Hutta.  
  
Kallas trotted up first. Rex sent him off to commandeer a transport speeder to move the puffer pig crates to the Ghost. He was back quickly and startled Rex in the way all natural born tended to startle clones. Especially people with accents like Republic naval officers who had always liked to hand out discipline to clones in often humiliating or sadistic ways.  
  
“May I tag along when you make the drop off?” Kallas asked, as they were handing out sausage omlettes and wellies.  
  
Rex groaned internally. He had had plans with the Ghost, since it was the first time he would have a ship on his own in months. Now he might be stuck with Alexsandr. Rex grumbled.  
  
“Pardon?” Kallus asked.  
  
“I don’t care what everybody else says, I like the hair,” Rex smiled in what he thought would look most disingenuous.  
  
“Erm…thank you?” Kallas was off balance.  
  
“You’re welcome,” Rex tried to sound cheerful.  
  
“So may I?” Kallas asked again to be sure.  
  
“I said you’re welcome, didn’t I?” Rex sighed.  
  
\--  
  
Kanan met them outside the Ghost. Kallas discreetly boarded the ship to go find Zeb for a private moment.  
  
Kanan went to Rex and hugged him, but with hearty slaps on the back so the affection remained manly.  
  
“Sorry about the other night. I just...” Kanan sighed, “We rarely get mad at each other. It just gets hard, you know? I can’t stop caring.”  
  
“It’s an emotional time. Working together...both of your feelings are warranted, I’m sure,” and Rex was.  
  
Kanan was using the Core accent, “And what will you do, while we’re on Lothal, my friend?”  
  
“Hera’s orders are to go recruiting,” Rex put his fists on his hips. “Since we’re all the Rebellion wants to commit right now, it wouldn’t hurt to call in a few favors, ask for some help. I will also make some personal inquiries when I have down time.”  
  
“Do you have any good leads in your search for your friends?” Kanan asked.  
  
“My girl had people on Eriadu. I might try to track them down. See if anyone has heard of her. It’s on the way.” Rex was trying to figure out what he was going to do with Kallus along. He would have to offer some kind of explanation and he didn’t know if he was comfortable telling Kallus about his personal business.  
  
“I hope you find what you’re seeking, old friend,” Kanan’s Core accent was harder than usual.  
  
It felt familiar to Rex, the strange way Kanan insisted on pronouncing it. It slowly dawned on Rex where he’d heard an approximation of Kanan’s pronunciation. It was Master Bilaba. Rex had met her before. He could imagine the accent was an expression of trying to measure up as a Jedi master. An emotional coping mechanism. Rex had thought he’d heard Skywalker affect a slight Obi-Wan impression when he was trying to sound more grown up than he felt.  
  
Rex decided Kanan deserved encouragement, “I just wanted to say….thanks for helping me. I already feel like I’ve learned so much because of you. You’re a really good friend. More like a brother…” Suddenly Rex stopped short. His throat felt closed. It wouldn’t let him say any more.  
  
“You can tell me all about it when you join us on Lothal,” Kanan assured him. It was not a very Jedi thing to say. But Kanan didn’t know that. He had a lot of heart, but he was barely trained.  
  
“Yes, I hope,” Rex realized for the first time that he tended to slip into a Skywalker accent at ‘serious’ times, when his feelings threatened to overwhelm him.  
  
Kanan hugged him for real this time. It was not a very Jedi thing to do. Rex was so surprised, he instinctively hugged back.  
  
“May the Force be with you, my friend,” Kanan told him, once they’d awkwardly disengaged and wiped tears, laughing at themselves.  
  
“You too,” Rex reached out at arm’s length and patted Kanan on the shoulder, like he did with his brothers.  
  
\--  
  
Hera knew she didn’t have to apologize to Rex. “You’re in command of the Ghost now. Take care of her. I will want her back.”  
  
“To think all the times I chased this ship, all the trouble it gave me. And now, I’m in command of it,” Kallus sat his entitled ass down in the pilot’s chair.  
  
“You!? Oh no, no, no. She was talking to me,” Rex pressed his thumb to his chest.  
  
“Why would she give the ship to you? I’ve commanded star destroyers,” Kallus stared Rex in the eyes adversarially.  
  
“Well, I’d say you answered your own question, then,” Rex stared right back.  
  
And then a strange thing happened. Alexsandr looked down and around in thought. Then, for the first time ever in Rex’s whole damn life, a white man stepped aside for him. Alexsandr stood up and went to the co-pilot’s seat. Rex took Hera’s usual place. They both took a breath.  
  
–  
  
Eriadu  
  
“Grand Moff Tarkin’s homeworld? Really? He knows me personally and actually has reason to want me dead,” Kallus was in distress as they landed in the spaceport in Eriadu City. “What are we doing here?”  
  
“If you’re a little huttu’ne you can stay with the ship. He knows I got reason to want him dead, too, but there are probably too many people like that to count.”  
  
Kallus looked in askance.  
  
Rex answered, “I don’t exactly like it, but I’m one of the reasons that butcher is still alive,” Rex had noticed he and Kallus seemed to be in a perverse little competition about who had the most awful people who wanted them dead. Rex didn’t like that he was that petty, but it was just hard not to.  
  
“In hindsight, would you have left him to die if you knew what a mass murderer he’d turn out to be?” Kallus asked suddenly.  
  
Rex scratched his head and considered, “I think if you were meant to just undo your mistakes, time would move in all directions. But it only goes one way. It is completely without mercy. I can’t have people un-killed. But I could stop him from killing more.”  
  
“Are all clones generally this philosophical?” Kallus asked, surprised.  
  
“Wait until you see Wolffe again,” Rex felt he needed to be specific, “We’re not here to kill Wilhuff, he’s not here at the moment.” Rex happened to know he was on Alderaan giving Senator Organa an inconvenient Imperial Audit of his finances.  
  
Rex went into the pharmacy and bought all the medications and anti-biotics he wanted for reasonable prices. Kallus seemed surprised by this.  
  
“Real medicines are like hard currency in the Outer Rim. They can be bartered or sold, or given away to encourage goodwill,” Rex explained as Kenobi used to. He was a seasoned traveler and had a lot of tips like that. Rex had become a less than willing expert in such matters as selling medication, just by virtue of his line of work. “Most places in the Outer Rim don’t get the imports from the factories in the Core, but of course Tarkin’s home world does.” To Rex’s surprise, Kallus followed suit.  
  
“Is that all we came to do?” Alexsandr asked, “Shop?”  
  
Rex checked the government listings from a public com station, “No!” He realized he sounded aggravated.  
  
“Then what is it?” former ISB officer Kallus interrogated.  
  
“It’s none of your damn business, it’s personal,” Rex rankled at the intrusion. He really didn’t want to be made the object of fun for the lengths he was willing to go to find love. Rex had always had to fight for every bit of privacy he’d ever had, usually unsuccessfully.  
  
“Where did you get your armor components, they almost look real!” a young woman on the street turned and asked. She was wearing the uniform of a domestic servant.  
  
“What?” Rex was caught off guard.  
  
“Captain Rex, right?” she smiled.  
  
“Uh….” Rex scratched the back of his neck.  
  
“Oh, sorry, I thought that’s why you were wearing it, that you were a fan,” the woman seemed to become less friendly. She probably thought he was ignorant of her fandom.  
  
“A fan of Captain Rex? Who isn’t?” Kallus said, somewhat obnoxiously. There was a hint of mocking. “I’m the fan, he just wears it because I like it. Isn’t it hot?”  
  
She turned to Rex, “You haven’t heard of the holo-vid?”  
  
“I...just wear it because he likes it,” Rex didn’t know whether or not to hope he wasn’t convincing as Alexsandr’s dopey boyfriend.  
  
Kallus went to a street vendor and, after asking some questions, purchased a fan guidebook of an inexpensive Eriadan language holo-novela.  
  
Most entertainment was censored on Eriadu, but cheap entertainment was difficult to regulate, videos were widely traded and borrowed. It consisted of topics that were geared towards female audiences, affluent women were mostly kept indoors, peasants were not taught to read. But as the countryside was devastated by pollution, women were moving into the city and gaining access to holo-viewers. Holo-novelas were popular among the working class women. Fantasy was a welcome escape.  
  
The program the woman had referenced was set in a fictionalized fairy tale past. The character named Captain Rex was a warrior and he wore blue and white armor somewhat similar to Rex’s own. It didn’t mean the person responsible for the program knew him. Anyone might have seen him on the holo-net news beside Skywalker during the war and heard the name in reports from the battlefront.  
  
Rex was still extremely confused. Alexsandr downloaded the episodes with subtitles and felt the need to quote excerpts, particularly from the most scandalous parts. The place of production was listed as Corellia, but that was a well known fake that studios used to elude government crackdowns on the illegal entertainment, particularly pornography.  
  
“Oh look, Captain Rex shoots a moving animal dead in the eye,” Kallus said sarcastically, “Did you write this yourself?”  
  
“Hehe. Yeah,” Rex didn’t bother to brag about how well he could hit a moving target.  
  
–  
  
They went to the government records office to see if anyone was registered as being born in the same village as Alis’ mother. The village had only been two hundred people, from what Lina had told him. He figured everyone there would know everyone else. As luck would have it, there was a former neighbor living at an address near one of the city’s gates.  
  
Walking through the neighborhood, some people stared at Rex. Eriadans had light skin and eyes. Rex fell in behind Kallus, trying to look servile. That seemed to reassure everybody.  
  
They reached the building and found a man sitting on the stoop. “Hello, does Werner Tarkin live here?” Kallus asked politely.  
  
“I’m him,” the little old man opened the door. He had the large blue eyes many of Wilhuff’s people shared. “Come in, come in,” he beckoned.  
  
Rex and Kallus exchanged a glance. The man acted like he’d been waiting for them. He didn’t even ask who they were.  
  
Rex did his best to sound official. “Mr. Tarkin, you were part of a refugee relocation program and for a time lived on Coruscant?”  
  
Kallus was watching Rex, gathering what he could.  
  
“Oh sure. I got out right after the Jedi Temple burned down and took half the neighborhood with it. I had nowhere to go to but to come back here,” he admitted.  
  
Rex felt awkward, “Did you know someone named Zerlina Tarkin, later Grady, her mom’s name was Clara?” Rex’s heart beat faster just saying the name.  
  
Kallus seemed to understand what was going on.  
  
The man looked at Kallus to answer, “Oh sure. Clara was a widow. A bunch of us came to Coruscant when our village was burned down by a warlord. The Jedi gave us cheap furnished apartments in the Temple district. It was the talk of the neighborhood when Lina was arrested. Fell in with a bad crowd, I guess. Our group, we kept our mouths shut and kept to ourselves. She was always in trouble with the police.”  
  
Good old ‘Rat Bottom, Rex remembered. Lina had been harassed by the police because her neighbors had reported her as, ‘having too many men around’ and ‘being loud’. Her restaurant had usually been full of army clones because there weren’t many other places in the district that would sell them food.  
  
Kallus took over the interview, “Does she have any family or friends left here on world? Anyone she might try to contact?”  
  
“Oh no. On account of the old village homesteads were in the path of wild fires,” Werner said cheerfully.  
  
“And let me guess, they burned down?” Kallus was almost sarcastic.  
  
“Of course.” Werner nodded, smiling. “Happens all the time.”  
  
“What about Lina’s husband? Do you know where he might be?” Rex asked.  
  
Kallus looked surprised at Rex.  
  
“Grady? Oh sure, he tried to go back to his mom’s flat, but she wouldn’t have him on account of him surrendering custody of her granddaughter. Threw him out in the street. It was a scene. She fired a blaster at him. The police came through and asked her to stop firing that thing in the neighborhood. So Grady went to his girlfriend’s and she would have him on account of him not having a kid or a wife anymore. She lived over in the Armory District. He would visit his mom from time to time, but if he got too close, she’d try to shoot him. Crazy old woman.”  
  
“And her name is…?” Kallus led.  
  
“Marija. Still alive, last I knew. Still sitting in her lawn chair on her stoop wearing her shawl, hands on her hips, disapproving of people passing by. I think they finally took her gun, though,” Werner scratched his bald head.  
  
“She doesn’t happen to have a means of communication?” Kallus took out a small datapad as if to write it down officially.  
  
“Her, nah. She never had much use for technology. It threw her off balance. If you ever get to Coruscant, tell her hi from me,” he chuckled.  
  
“Yeah...probably not,” Rex shook his head. “Thanks, you’ve been very helpful.”  
  
“Have I kept you here long enough?” The old man asked. Changing his tone somehow.  
  
Suddenly, something made the hairs in Rex’s ears tremble, although there was no sound on the air at all. Time seemed to slow as he concentrated and reached out, as if putting his hand down into murky water. Something seemed to reach up from the depths and touch him. In a split second, turned and in a single motion, shoved Alexsandr to the ground and fired with his free hand at the entrance. He saw in slow motion as Alexsandr’s eyes widened as he found himself falling to the floor. Then looked up to see the blast fly right into a silhouette that had darkened the light from the doorway. The figure fell. Dead shot in the eye.  
  
The old man ran back into the house with a shriek, probably out a back door.  
  
“What is she?” Rex asked, using a technique he knew to slow his heartbeat.  
  
“An Inquisitor. I’ve never met this particular individual. But they work for Darth Vader,” Kallus told what he knew. “Is that what we’re doing? Why is Vader hunting your friend?”  
  
Rex kept his weapon, but allowed himself a deep breath. “Probably because of me,” Rex admitted reluctantly. He hoped this assassin hadn’t found Alis first and waited there for him.  
  
Kallus didn’t seem surprised. He used to round up innocent people to use as leverage against useful people who cared about them. Rex had assumed he wasn’t important enough to endanger his loved ones. Hardly anyone in the Rebellion knew what Rex had done during the war. They were practically all too young to remember. That bastard Titus who’d arrested and tortured him was dead. Ezra had outright bragged about blowing up his ship. But why did Darth Vader know who he was?  
  
Darth Vader didn’t take part in Order 66 under the influence of some mind control chip the way the clones had. He was a conscious conspirator. Rex had, of course, vowed revenge on this individual, but he had kept the vow to himself. He was sure he’d never spoken the words aloud, but he had promised himself that if he ever had the chance, he’d kill the bastard in cold blood. Consequences be damned, the universe would certainly be better off.  
  
Rex hated it that this was the first time he actually remembered that Lord Vader was a full Sith and those guys could read minds pretty unabashedly. Then, for a perverse second, it actually made Rex proud that he had merited the attention.  
  
–


	3. Appear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The salt flats aren't to be traveled lightly

Salt Flats, Seelos  
  
“Switch to a wider stride!” Wolffe shot off a few rounds from the upper head guns. Gregor manned the lower.  
  
“Got it,” Alis concentrated on the viewport. One of the speeders got caught in the swing of the heavy foot of the AT-AT and went spinning off in front of them. Alis gritted her teeth expecting to hear the grinding of gears, but to her surprise, it was a smooth transition, ease up on acceleration, clutch, switch gears (only a slight, barely detectable grind), release clutch and lower on the accelerator. She gritted her teeth and held the steering steady.  
  
Wolffe had warned that the salt flats of Seelos didn’t offer much in the way of cover, so their only hope was to outrun anyone who tried to stop them to take their ride. Since the walker was well armored, they were tough enough to withstand most attacks. But being able to run away cut down on the number of attackers one had to deal with trying to swarm the vehicle and the amount of ammo one had to use to make them stop. Because it was an Imperial vehicle, some people didn’t want to mess with an AT-AT. Some, but not all.  
  
These bandits had land speeders, so they had the advantage of speed and maneuverability. But they had no protection.  
  
“Oh crud, they’re trying to bring the legs down with cables. If we fall, we’ll never get it standing again before they shoot us in the neck!” Wolffe hollered.  
  
“I got it, I got it,” Gregor grabbed his DC-17m and set it to grenade launcher.  
  
“Is that safe?” Alis asked.  
  
Wolffe jumped to the lower head gun controls, “Our armor will withstand those, but it will smoke anything else. Those XP-38’s are like foil, cheap Sullustan SoroSuub garbage.”  
  
Gregor grabbed a bandoleer with some grenades hanging from it, and put it on as he walked to Declan the AT-AT’s ventral hatch.  
  
Wolffe fired a few rounds in the sand ahead of them to kick up dust, so the open speeders would be blind to what Gregor was about to do. Gregor opened the hatch and sent a few grenades down in the middle of the dust cloud below.  
  
The clones coordinated it as easily as a well-rehearsed dance routine, neither seeming surprised by the actions of the other. Wolffe turned and checked the view screens for the posterior camera. Just in time to catch a grenade exploding as the speeders careened out of control and crashed into a herd of mining pigs that was passing by.  
  
Wolffe looked more closely at the screen, “Looks like puffer pigs. Oh, yup. It’s Eubuleus.”  
  
“He’s gonna tell everybody he’s seen us,” Gregor closed the hatch as one would a trash can lid.  
  
Wolffe listened to his headset, “What’s that he’s shouting at us? ‘Imperial scum’? Oh yeah, he’s mad alright. Over half of his herd is smoked bacon,” Wolffe shook his head.  
  
“Oooh. Can we go back and make him an offer for it?” Gregor was only half joking.  
  
“Ugh, have you ever TASTED mining pig meat? The texture is gritty. You can’t make a damned thing with it,” Alis informed him. “Maybe some chowder eventually, but who has time to soak them that long?”  
  
“Hey, who is THIS know it all kid?” Gregor seemed to be seeing Alis for the first time. He really couldn’t remember her for more than a few hours at a time.  
  
“Yuki Akizuki,” Alis answered.  
  
Gregor shrugged, “Now joopa, you can make that into a stew, grilled. Cured and served on a bed of greens, creamed and chipped over toast, of course. Fried filets...” Gregor continued on, returning to his chair, next to where Alis was sitting, “Ground joopa patties on a bun. Oh, and who could forget the steaks...”  
  
Wolffe glared at Gregor for a second. Gregor went on listing ways to eat joopa.  
  
–  
  
Later in the day, the walker chugged along. They passed by a family of hunter gatherers. The sentients threw rocks at the walker, then ran away.  
  
“Who are they?” Alis had never seen such a species before.  
  
“Local. They were here minding their own business before the creatures of the outside galaxy arrived. Since then, they’ve been rounded up as slaves because they’re strong and don’t need much water. They mostly die after a few standard rotations because they can’t take the artificial gravity shock. But it’s cheap to buy more. Since I’ve been here, there are fewer Seelians every year. Probably go extinct soon,” Wolffe didn’t realize until he’d said it that he had answered her question very darkly. It was the truth, though. Their depopulation had caused the population of joopa to explode, which was why he had a job.  
  
“What do they think we are, I wonder,” Alis tried to see better by squinting, but it didn’t help. The beings had good camouflage.  
  
“So if your foster family were religious, but what were you before that?” Wolffe asked.  
  
“Well, my mom and grandma were all in on the Force religion. But I’m not sure how well they understood doctrine. They had converted after a Jedi Mission relocated them to Coruscant as refugees. My mom went to the religious school they had in her neighborhood,” Alis remembered.  
  
“Really? I’ve been in that school. With General Plo Koon,” Wolffe remembered the children in their uniforms.  
  
“So you knew Jedi? Hey, let me ask you, how can you tell when someone is…like that, you know, using the Force? The Mandalorians taught us to doubt such a thing exists,” Alis had grown up mostly after the war. There were only a handful of Force wielders left in the galaxy.  
  
Whereas there was a time in Wolffe’s life when many of his best friends had special powers. The Force was something that most people suddenly decided was fraud. But Wolffe had seen the Jedi up close. What Wolffe had considered routine sounded seriously ridiculous, but he KNEW things that he just didn’t know if he could teach it and still take himself seriously.  
  
“If they don’t want you to know, you can’t tell. But if they’re using the Dark Side, you’ll sense them before you see them,” he said finally. “The problem is, so few people these days even know what the sensation is. They’ve become programmed to become calloused to it.” Some of the enemies he had actually faced were dark side wielders. One had taken his eye. “Like with any disability, you can train yourself to compensate. I’m lucky, I’ve got a high grade prosthesis, I can detect changes in stance, heart rate, breathing, motion. These things can help me tell if a person is distracted, whether they are likely to notice me or not. With Force wielders, that is the only way you can compensate for their greater abilities, is by knowing what is going on with them. If they’re disoriented, or overwhelmed, or strained, or tired, I can tell. Sneak up on them. Most people don’t know how to do it because they don’t know how to analyze the results. But my brain does it for me. At least, I believe so. So my focus is increased and I perform better. Fact is, I think most Force wielders these days are probably wooed into some kind of complacency, since they probably don’t see us normies as much threat.”  
  
Gregor piped up, “Kids these days wouldn’t know a real threat anymore. When I was young, we had way more to worry about.”  
  
“None of which you remember!” Wolffe shouted him down. He hated being interrupted.  
  
The scopes on the dash lit up and started whooping an alarm.  
  
“What’s that? Alis asked.  
  
“Something on the horizon,” Wolffe pointed to a scope screen on the dash panel. It was a large number of local people moving as if in a herd. There was a ship parked nearby. “It looks like slave traders making a sale.”  
  
“We have to do something!” Alis declared a little too self assuredly.  
  
“If they know we’ve got a human woman, they’ll shoot us and take you to sell. Please stay in the vehicle,” Wolffe gritted his teeth.  
  
“Can I still man the guns?” Alis asked.  
  
“Not with your aim,” Gregor blurted out.  
  
Alis ignored it, since it was fair. She crossed her arms and glared at Wolffe, “Seriously, what can I do?”  
  
Wolffe put his fist on his hip, “Look, I am only engaging them at all is because if they think we are Imperial, that star ship out there will turn its guns on us and we’ll be a smoking krater. I don’t want anyone to get hurt unnecessarily. We know the lead trader, we can tell him it is us and we’re doing nothing out of the ordinary. That way, if anybody asks, he’s got nothing interesting to say. We’re of no consequence. He can see our guns are bigger than his, so he and his people won’t necessarily try to hijack the vehicle and tell me and Gregor to walk all the way back to Guanoton.”  
  
“People do that to each other?” Alis’ eyes grew wide.  
  
“Yeah, nah, out here, who has the biggest guns is the safest from having their stuff taken, generally,” Gregor yawned.  
  
“Who challenges you then?” Alis asked.  
  
“Usually whoever has the most guns. That’s the police,” Gregor explained. “Slave traders a close second. But that ship making the pickup is Black Sun, so they win at the moment.” He was having a good day.  
  
–  
  
“Hey Aqra! Don’t shoot, it’s us,” Wolffe said on the com of the walker. He then raised the head port and waved.  
  
“Oh, hey Willy,” the Weequay with the gigantic walking staff wheezed laughing at his joke. Wolffe wasn’t sure what the joke was.  
  
“How is the slave trade?” Wolffe asked slyly.  
  
“Stay out of our business and I might let you live,” Aqra waved his comically large walking stick at them.  
  
Wolffe put up his palms, “We’re just in your area here to sling for joopa.”  
  
“You got any other food?” Aqra the trader asked. He was a man driven by his appetites. He didn’t have to work very hard to get food, or water, or sex because of his position in life as head of a large and powerful clan. So to him, unique novelties were one of the only things he found amusing.  
  
“If you’ve got something to trade, as a matter of fact, we have some off world contraband for sale. Got it at a good price from some Imperials who had impounded it as ‘evidence’,” Wolffe easily spun a tale.  
  
“I’ll take all of it. I don’t want a trade, just give it to me, or I’ll tell my friends to waste you,” Aqra answered. He knew he could just take it and Wolffe would thank him for letting him off easy.  
  
–  
  
Wolffe got out of the walker to bring over the crate of contraband. He fumbled weakly with the crate on purpose to look frail. His guns’ safeties were off.  
  
“So where did you get the equipment?” Aqra scrutinized the walker, hitting its leg with his walking stick.  
  
“Imperial inspection team left it behind, I guess,” Wolffe sniffed what he hoped was casually.  
  
“And you guys just HAPPENED to be the first ones to find it? No really, how many men did you kill to get it?” Aqra appreciated.  
  
“A few,” Wolffe admitted, since it was true, “But they shot at us first.”  
  
And once that guy Agent Kallus and his Imperials retreated, the clones and the Rebels did not hunt them down, they’d just let them run away. It made Wolffe sad that his mercy might be his undoing, since he’d been so sure at the time that they were doing the right thing.  
  
“Did they get Stripes?” Aqra looked around. “Where is he?”  
  
‘Stripes’ was Rex. Aqra had seen Rex’s scars once. Rex had been hit with an electro-whip before. There was no mistaking a mark of enslavement like that. Aqra actually felt bad for the brothers because he decided they were slaves who had out lived their usefulness and been marooned on Seelos by their master when he didn’t want to feed them anymore. That was mostly the case, but he didn’t know their particular variety of slave to be army clones or their master to be the ruler of the galaxy. Aqra wasn’t exactly up on current events. Aqra left the brothers alone because they looked ornery and ill-tempered and they weren’t likely to fetch a good price. He was happy to let them reduce the menace of joopa in his territory.  
  
“Uh...” Wolffe was about to lie badly. “He’s gone.” Wolffe kept it simple. “You haven’t seen any Imperials hereabouts have you?” Wolffe asked.  
  
“Nary a hair,” Aqra showed his filed teeth, “I avoid them if I can. If I catch them, I kill them.”  
  
“And you brag about it. I hear that,” Wolffe tried to sound casual.  
  
“So where you got this food, is there more of it?” Aqra and his well-armed security ripped open the rations and scarfed.  
  
“Sure. But not everyone can go everywhere. We’re human. You Weequay guys would be barred entry at the gates. I could, of course, offer to be your intermediary if there is something special you want to procure,” Wolffe didn’t like dealing with slave traders, but they were the only people on Seelos with money. Besides the police. And he hated the police on instinct.  
  
“Another one of these power stations. Bah. If I had the guns, I’d destroy all of them,” Aqra frowned, “They’re getting in my way.”  
  
“Really? You’re in the market for guns? Hm. Something to keep in mind,” Wolffe considered.  
  
“Why? Do you know where we can get some? The police confiscate the best ones we smuggle in right at the spaceport,” Aqra squinted.  
  
“Me? No, I don’t know anything,” Wolffe headed back to the ladder, “You have a good day now. Joopa are jumping, I’ve got to go.” He hazarded a gander at the transaction. It was Black Sun buying the slaves, probably to use as crew for their ships. There were hundreds being loaded into the cargo carrier. That was when Wolffe noticed Alis crawling along among the crowd. Wolffe looked up towards the head of the walker. He hurried up the ladder, cursing every step.  
  
“Gregor!” Wolffe popped in through the open ventral hatch and shut it behind him, “Where is Alis?!”  
  
“Who?” Gregor asked.  
  
Wolffe was yelling. Gregor looked like he thought Wolffe might hit him. He was stressed. Stress was bad for his memory.  
  
Wolffe watched from the viewport as Alis ducked down to crawl out of line, then she went along the underside of the ship stealthily placing charges, putting that practical Mandalorian education to good use. She snuck away and grabbed the walker leg as it passed. Wolffe and Gregor walked the AT-AT and she climbed the leg ladder while the walker stayed in motion.  
  
“What did I SAY!?” Wolffe yelled, when she came in through the ventral hatch.  
  
“Pssht. Basic training level shit,” Alis stared him down. Without breaking eye contact, she retrieved a long range detonator from her pocket.  
  
“Who is this?” Gregor cowered slightly, “Is she gonna blow us up? She’s crazy!” He plugged his ears with his fingers.  
  
Alis continued to stare at Wolffe.   
  
He moved his eyes to the viewport. He finally answered, “FINE! But wait until we’re down the road a bit.”  
  
The long range detonator they hit about half an hour later. The Black Sun ship never got off the ground. Wolffe could see the smoke rise from where it had stood on the viewscreen for the aft camera.  
  
The Black Sun assumed Aqra was double crossing them and they opened fire. The slaves made a run for it. The Black Sun members were all killed by Aqra’s people so that they could steal and strip the Black Sun ship of everything valuable.  
  
Aqra shook his head touring the burning chaos. It would take a while to round the runaways back up. As for who had done it, Aqra had his suspicions, but he had come out of the deal profitably, so there was no reason to be upset with Stripes’ brothers. They’d done him a favor, really. He was going to try to steal that AT-AT, though.  
  
– “Admit it, we make a pretty good team,” Alis slapped her uncle Wolffe with one of her gloves.”  
  
“Okay, you’re good in a fight,” Wolffe admitted reluctantly. He didn’t want to be doing this to her, he really didn’t. He wanted better, more respectable things for her. There just didn’t seem to be many lives like that in the galaxy for anyone that wasn’t rich.  
  
“Who is this chicky? I told you, Wolffe, no more hitchhikers,” Gregor crossed his arms.  
  
“My professional name is Alistaire Cookie,” she answered routinely.  
  
“Sounds like a stripper name,” Gregor grumbled, “I don’t care what he told you, he is not heir to a fortune, so you can move on to the next lap if that’s what you’re after.”  
  
Alis blushed.  
  
Wolffe shook his head, “Gregor, she is no such thing.”  
  
“I’m just telling her like it is, isn’t that kinder than letting her waste her time and be disappointed?” Gregor scolded.  
  
“My dad abandoned me when I was five. I’m not easily disappointed by men, since the bar has been set so low,” Alis laughed uncomfortably, “You know, like the old cliché about us strippers.”  
  
Wolffe pointed at her, “You’re not helping.”  
  
“I wasn’t trying to,” Alis high fived Gregor.  
  
Gregor wasn’t sure why, but he liked to be included.  
  
Wolffe hated seeing his own behaviors reflected back at him while he was in a position of authority.  
  
–  
  
“There it is, the reserve,” Wolffe was looking through a scope to the mound where they’d buried the other two walkers. If they could find a buyer, they could turn a profit, if they weren’t killed in a deal gone bad. The trick was doing the work without being discovered. Without guards, they would be vulnerable, out there digging just the three of them. “Doesn’t seem to be anyone around. We’ll take turns getting some sleep, start digging before sunup. Can’t risk lights.”  
  
They took turns doing watch. Alis was doing a perimeter sweep of the area under the walker when the figure appeared from the dark. The woman lunged at her with the red blade. Alis sidestepped and shot at her back, missing. The woman turned and struck at Alis’ face with her fist. Alis fell and went to trip her adversary’s legs. She dropped, then shrieking with rage, she gestured at Alis. Alis found herself off the ground and thrown against one of the walker legs. The woman ignited the blade and held it at Alis’ neck.  
  
“Do...do you work for Admiral Titus?” Alis asked, trying to stall, trying to remember when the changing of the watch was scheduled.  
  
The Inquisitor laughed, “No, I got that numbskull transferred. I hear he died recently,” she sneered.  
  
“What do you people want with me? I don’t know anything. It’s how I ended up here, by mistake. You think I want to be stuck with these lechers?” Alis bluffed.  
  
The inquisitor was unsure why the girl seemed to be lying about this.  
  
“No, Titus said a transmission was sent from this world, attempting to contact that clone. And so here you are. In the company of clones,” the inquisitor said in a tone of disbelief. Then her tone leveled, “I’d rather do this the easy way. I won’t have to share credit.”  
  
“That clone never responded. He’s probably dead,” Alis sounded certain. Truthfully, some days she was sure it was true.  
  
“Then we have no use for him. Where is the Rebellion,” she asked.  
  
“I don’t know anything about it,” Alis tried to make it sound as if that disappointed her. “Look, get me away from these pervs and I’ll tell you everything I know.”  
  
“Where is Tano?” the inquisitor was getting angry.  
  
“Tano?” Alis asked.  
  
The inquisitor did a gesture, as if pulling the air towards herself with her fingers.  
  
Alis suddenly had a sharp headache, “I don’t know any Tano.” Real tears streamed from her eyes. She was so nauseated she thought she would throw up, like being on a centrifuge against her will. Suddenly all she could think of was how much she wanted her mama. Suddenly the pain stopped. Her head dropped involuntarily like her neck was too tired to hold it up. She tried to breathe, but the wind had been knocked out of her lungs for a few seconds.  
  
“You...don’t lie. Titus promised me you would lead me to Tano!” the inquisitor raged. She chopped the ground apart repeatedly with her lightsaber disk.  
  
Alis found she could breathe again. The pain relaxed slightly.  
  
“I need to find her!” The woman seemed a little scared.  
  
“Why? Who are you afraid of?” Alis asked, sincerely, shivering as if cold.  
  
“I need to find Tano. It’s all that matters to him, he’s obsessed,” the inquisitor gripped her forehead like she had a headache.  
  
Using her Dark Side powers of compulsion took a lot out of her. Someone familiar with such powers could recognize the fatigue in her body language.  
  
“I don’t know anything, please, no more,” Alis hung her head. Her mind was stabbed with visions of her mother. Somewhere far away. Happy without her. Her body heaved with sobs.  
  
“Titus said the clone had joined the Rebellion, working with Jedi,” the inquisitor hissed at Alis and slashed the ground again for emphasis.  
  
“Jedi? You don’t really believe in the Force, do you….” Alis’ throat swelled up, choking her.  
  
“Little one, I’m tired of your antics. Where is the Rebellion?” the woman asked, her tone dripping with false sweetness.  
  
Her focus on Alis was unbroken. Nothing else distracted her. Someone familiar with such powers could recognize it in her body language. It was nearly time to strike.  
  
“I told you, I don’t know,” Alis choked breathlessly, grasping at her neck.  
  
“You are either very resistant or you are the stupidest girl in the galaxy. Maybe you’re not afraid enough. I am an Inquisitor, I work for Lord Vader,” she waved a hand and Alis gasped breath into her lungs.  
  
“I don’t know who that is,” Alis cried.  
  
“Tell me now!” The inquisitor raged. She gestured to close Alis’ throat, her focus approached its peak as the moment approached when she would kill.  
  
Alis passed out under the strain, just as she saw a white helmet with a t-visor closing in behind the inquisitor.  
  
Wolffe stunned the inquisitor between the shoulder blades and she had never sensed him coming.  
  
–  
  
“Gregor, come and help me?” Wolffe called over his wrist com. Gregor clambered down the leg ladder quickly.  
  
“Huh? Who?” Gregor was standing over the two women, weapon at the ready to stun the first one who stirred.  
  
Wolffe observed the figures lying on the ground, as if in shock from what he’d just done. He had walked up to a Dark Force wielder. Unafraid, he knew just what to do. The muscle memory had just been switched on. He couldn’t believe he had it in himself. He hadn’t seen that version of himself in years. He took off his helmet and looked at his reflection in the visor.  
  
Gregor recognized Alis. “Hey, isn’t that Princess Leia?” Gregor pointed. He trotted over to check her. He turned Alis face up.  
  
Wolffe put on his helmet and switched on the lights. He holstered his pistols, safety off.  
  
Alis was lying on the ground. Breathing normally.  
  
The other. The woman with the disk weapon who had burned down Kwymartown.  
  
“You’re alright there, Chicky,” Gregor knelt at Alis’ side. He put his lips to her forehead. “Well, you don’t have a fever.”  
  
Alis smiled and opened her eyes, “Then I guess I’ll be alright.”  
  
Gregor helped her sit up and sat next to her with his arm protectively around her. She leaned on his shoulder. Wolffe felt jealous for a second.  
  
Wolffe knelt over his patient. Her breath was shallow.  
  
“Is she alive?” Alis asked Wolffe.  
  
“Yeah. She’s been straining herself. Like she’s desperate. She’s been threatened, maybe tortured. Look at these marks on her neck here. Looks like a Force choke. I haven’t seen one of these in years. The marks are distinctive, though, you don’t forget them.”  
  
Woflfe indicated without actually making contact with her. “She wasn’t well. The stress of knowing you’ll die if you don’t do as you’re told. It’s like a flesh rot, ain’t it?” Wolffe was impressed with how much wisdom he was able to lay down right there.  
  
“So what do we do?” Gregor asked.  
  
“If we are here when she wakes up, she’ll probably still try to kill us,” Alis touched her own neck, where Wolffe knew the bruises were already forming.  
  
“We can’t leave her here,” Gregor scolded.  
  
“What if her boss comes looking for her?” Alis remembered.  
  
“Who?” Wolffe asked, not wanting to really hear the answer.  
  
“Her boss, Lord Vader,” Alis vexed him.  
  
“What the fresh hell did karking Rex step into this time?” Wolffe sounded exhausted.  
  
“What is Lord Vader?” Gregor cocked an eyebrow.  
  
“Thank you,” Alis whispered to him. She hadn’t wanted to be the one to ask.  
  
“Nobody we want to talk to. Let’s get out of here,” Wolffe stood. He emptied three rounds into the Inquisitor’s disk weapon to render it useless.  
  
In the end, they decided to go back to the walker and sit at a distance and let her decide if she wanted to come over or not. The inquisitor instead awakened and limped her way through the dark to her TIE fighter. She flew away. The walker guns stayed trained on her ship, but they never fired. They just let her go.  
  
Wolffe was relieved his strategy had worked. He was glad she had deemed them useless before she’d even seen who he was. Because Wolffe actually knew a Tano and he certainly didn’t want Lord Vader’s attention.  
  
“How did you know that would happen?” Alis asked him over the campfire at dinner.  
  
“She’s lost. Her strength was in the pack she ran with, but whatever little cult she was raised in turned on her and now she’s alone. People like that would rather not fight. From everything I know, this Darth Vader guy sounds like a giant Dooku in the Outer Rim.” The turn of phrase meant an infuriating piece of shit that just wouldn’t flush.  
  
Gregor cackled at the euphemism. Alis missed the reference. She had thought it was Lord Vader, not Darth Vader, but evidently that was just his title. She didn’t want to seem ignorant by asking what he was lord of.  
  
“Point is, people can be lost but they might find the way. Especially if you show them how it feels good to be treated with respect or kindness or mercy,” Wolffe shrugged.  
  
“She said Titus was dead. Now if we can sell the guns, maybe it will be safe to leave this place,” Alis suggested.  
  
“If she’s out of good graces, I doubt she even told Vader her plan. And without his Imperial resources, she can’t do things like put out a bounty. Since they identified you as a kidnapping, the Imperials don’t think you’ve committed a crime. Your face along with Biggus Dickus over here might not be in the databanks if Titus and that woman wanted to get to you first, so kept the tip to themselves. I’d say, outlook sunny. Now we just have to make it back from here, sell the guns, and yeah. All while avoiding the police. Simple.” He purposefully didn’t delve into what would happen after that.  
  
–


End file.
